


We Two Boys

by probably



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Freeform, Gen, Humor, M/M, Podcast, Podcast!AU, Social Media, Yuuri is a dancer, bad attempts at social media, phichit is a skater, victor pines but not in a slow burn kinda way, what does freeform even mean, yuri is a reluctant fan, yuuri and phichit have a podcast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-17 06:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probably/pseuds/probably
Summary: Yuuri talks about his crush on Victor Nikiforov while recording an episode of his and Phichit's podcast We Two Boys. It's not a big deal until it Becomes A Big Deal.An ocean away, Victor falls in luv.





	1. but what about nick kroll?

**Author's Note:**

> hi. ive been trapped in a YOI hole for ages now...usually i don't rly write stuff but i've been listening to various funny podcasts lately + it gave me a need for YOI podcast fic....which? don't really exist as far as i know. i mean maybe it does but im not rly gonna go searching for it. anyway dialogue is heavily inspired by the way ppl actually interact w/ each other IRL so.....get ready 4 filler speech.
> 
> anyway,.....i feel like this is rly mediocre so read at yr own risk...

Yuuri Katsuki wouldn’t consider himself lucky by any means, having worked hard all his life to get where he was today, but Yuuri couldn’t imagine his life could get any better than what it was right now. He and his college friend Phichit were currently co-hosts and co-creators of a podcast about basically nothing, alongside their regular jobs…which when it came down to it, weren’t actually that regular. Phichit was a competitive figure skater and Yuuri was a choreographer and co-owned a dance studio. Both unconventional career choices, however they both somehow made it work. 

And somewhere inbetween their demanding and crazy schedules, they made time to meet up semi-regularly to record a podcast with no clear objective other than an excuse to hang out and talk about anything and everything, sometimes with a special guest, sometimes without.

Yuuri took a sip of water and glanced over to their producer slash assistant slash guy who fixes everything and creates magic, Seung Gil. He gave a nearly invisible nod that everything was ready to go. Yuuri cleared his throat. “Phichit are you all set?”

His friend nodded, tapping his fingers on the table. “Yup! Not sure why you always ask, it’s not like we have a script!”

Yuuri rolled his eyes and gave a short laugh, muttering a whatever. He leaned into the microphone. 

“Hey everyone, so we have a fun show for you today—“

“Wouldn’t you say all of our shows are fun?”

“You know, you’re right. We are damn funny people. My mistake. Okay, so redo.”

“Yeah, I’m a little offended at that implication. Redo, redo.”

“Okay.’” Yuuri let out a breath, chuckling as he caught Phichit’s eye. “Okay. Hey everyone, today we have an average sho—“ His sentence was cut off short as Phichit burst out laughing. 

“An ‘average’ show, really?!” his co-host wheezed.

Yuuri cleared his throat. “Well if we’re always funny, it only makes sense that today is just another normal day. Average levels of hilarious. Is that how that works? Right?”

“Please don’t ever go into marketing,” Phichit snorted. “That redo intro was a hard sell. I think we probably lost about half our subscribers.”

“First of all, I would do great in marketing. Second of all, I think that’s a lie. In fact, everyone who disagrees with Phichit should email us now to express that…disagreement...”

“See you can’t even say that right! I mean now I look forward to seeing the results and tweeting about them. And about your eminent loss.” 

“Okay, whatever. So before I was rudely interrupted…We have a great –ok how was that? – a great show today. We haven’t recorded an episode in a couple weeks due to Phichit being busy with his ice skating going all around the world and shit and me being busy with my…work hiatus…?”

“Question mark? Yeah what’ve you been up to?”

“So the choreo studio I co-run has still been open but I haven’t been there to do anything or run any classes. It’s just been Leo.”

“So what have you done in this hiatus? You’ve been kinda MIA on social media.”

“I’ve uh….well, you know. Went out to get groceries—“ Yuuri already knew he was going to have a really hard time getting through his spiel without laughing, based on how aggressively Phichit was biting his lip. His eyes were crazed with hysterics. “I uh, walked from my bedroom to my bathroom to my kitchen. Frequently. Sometimes in that order, sometimes not.”

“So…” Phichit was doing really well keeping a straight face, but it was evident in his voice how amusing he found Yuuri’s happenings. “So basically it was a staycation. You went on vacation and stayed at home.”

“It was a hiatus.”

“That literally makes no sense. You’re just trying to make yourself seem less lazy.”

“Well, I guess it’s one of those potato potahto things, right?”

“No, not really – and yeah, even Seung-gil disagrees. I see him shaking his head.”

Yuuri turned to their producer, an expression of playful betrayal painting his features. Seung Gil gave a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah, sorry. That’s a staycation. And also kinda sad.”

Phichit’s hysterics broke through at that, laughing loudly into the mic. “We can always count on Seung Giil to be the voice of reason.”

“Literally, you’re fired.”

“As the other half of this podcast, I re-hire you.”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes. “Just get on with the show.”

“Okay, whatever. Personal life choices aside, we have a ton of stuff to talk about today and we have a great guest joining us today. We have uh, name redacted, from the café that Phichit is a regular at, here to teach us all about the worst types of customers. How to spot them, avoid them, a quick checklist to determine if you’re ONE of those customers, etc. But first, let’s answer some fan questions. It’s time for Honesty Hour!”

Yuuri and Phichit both looked at their scripts. Not that they had actual scripts. They were mostly just filled with topic reminders, and for this particular segment of their show, hand-picked questions submitted by listeners.

“Okay, so we all know how this works. If you don’t know, it’s pretty easy. We each pick a question submitted by our listeners and ask each other the question and we have to answer honestly.”

Yuuri laughed. “But like, how would anyone know?”

“Okay. Yuuri is probably lying, that’s noted.” Phichit scanned his paper, smirking. “Oh,I got a good one. Who was your first celebrity crush? I think I know the answer to this…so if you lie, I’ll call you out.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. He leaned over to peek at Phichit’s paper. He didn’t remember seeing that queston when he scanned the initial submissions after opening the inbox for this episode the other day, and he didn’t see it yesterday or today either when he checked for residual messages. However, Phichit saw him coming from a mile away and snatched the paper out of his reach before he could get a glance. “I don’t remember seeing that question come through. This feels like a set-up.”

Phichit’s smirk turned into a wolf-ish grin. “You must’ve missed it! Now quit stalling.”

“—whatever. Okay fuck it. So this is totally a set-up and I stopped caring 5 minutes ago. I’ll just say it –“

“It sounds like you’re bullshitting right now.”

They both laughed, Yuuri especially, having been caught out in his sad attempted at stalling. “Anyway. Okay, so I’ve always been a huge fan of figure skating? Like I did ballet and then got into ice skating as a kid, but also stayed dancing. And I ended up quitting and dedicating my time to dance due to like, money and whatever because ice skating is expensive as fuck.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, I think you would know better than I do…I quit, remember? Anyway, obviously I was too young and average for sponsorships and this was back in the day when crowd-funding didn’t really…exist yet? So I quit, yadda yadda.”

“One day we will talk more about your ice skating past in length.”

“You know, I’m honestly surprised we haven’t yet.”

“Right? Okay, back to your crush.”

“Ugh. Okay.”

“You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

“Fine. All right, so while I was skating, my rinkmate and childhood friend Yuuko introduced me to this one figure skater. Any listeners who follow the sport or pay attention to the Winter Olympics probably are familiar with Victor Nikiforov—“

A loud clapping from Phichit accompanied by delighted laughter rang through the small studio. “Oh my God, wait! This is not where I thought this was going. But YES!”

At this point Yuuri was only a little embarrassed but opted to barrel through. He was already this far. He would deal with hating himself after they uploaded the episode. They had made a pact early on to never abuse the power of editing. If something was said, it was staying in the show. Unless it was incriminating or something dire like that, only then would it be edited out.

But embarrassing word-vomit? Yeah, no, that’s staying.

“So she introduced me to Victor Nikiforov when he was still in the junior division I think? I was like, maybe 12. Anyway, I was enthralled. I’m pretty sure I had a crush on Yuuko at the time but as soon as I laid eyes on Victor I realized I was completely gay.”

Phichit’s eyes watered as he laughed even harder. “Like, someone just dropped a huge boulder on the straight-to-gay scale, like a fucking—“

“Yeah, yeah like a Victor shaped boulder on my metaphorical sexuality see-saw. Like I was already in that neutral position and depending on the direction of the wind, you know…that kind of swayed how I felt for the day–“ Yuuri trailed off, snorting.

“And then suddenly like BAM. Victor. Gay. Never going back.”

“The see-saw literally just snapped in half.”

“Such a fucked up analogy. Or metaphor. Or you know what I’m saying.”

“Yeah, I really hope he decides not to listen to this.”

“I’ll make sure to mail him like, 10 physical copies of this episode.”

“Amazing. Well, listeners, I would also like to announce that today is our last episode as I am quitting everything and going to live in the desert …”

“He’s lying.”

“I’m not. But wait, backpedalling a bit. Who did you THINK I was going to say was my celebrity crush?”

“Honestly, I was bluffing before. I had no idea who your childhood celebrity crush was. I mean, I know you have a weird thing for Nick Kroll but that would be weird if it was like since childhood. I’m sorry if we have any listeners who have had…childhood crushes on Nick Kroll. You’re not weird.”

“Okay, yeah, but that’s not really a crush…he’s just really funny and I admire that about him.”

“But would you fuck him.”

“Well…yeah. Because he’s funny.”

“Basically my end goal was to get you to admit you want to fuck Nick Kroll. Which I succeeded with, in a roundabut way. So you’re right, it was totally a set-up. Anyway, so your childhood crush is Victor Nikiforov. Which, you do know I’ll be competing against him in the Grand Prix Final?”

“Please don’t ask him to listen to our podcast.”

Phichit rolled his eyes. “Because I love you so much, I won’t. We can’t control our listeners though. Plus, what if he already listens to it?”

Yuuri snorted. “Highly doubt it. Which, on that note. Listeners, I can’t make you do anything, but I swear to God, if I find out one of you betrayed me like this……..”

“What’ll you do Yuuri?”

“Probably cry and get a face transplant, I don’t know.”

“That’s extreme.”

“Anyway. I don’t want to spend the whole hour talking about me and my no longer a crush-crush on your fellow competitor. Let’s talk about you. You haven’t answered a question yet.”

Phichit held his bare wrist up, making a show of checking the time. “Do we have time for that?”

“Seung Gil is nodding his head yes, so. Yeah. We do.” Yuuri cleared his throat. “Okay, well I’m not a terrible person, so I’m going to ask you a normal question: If you could have any super power what would it be?”

“Oh, fuck. Wow. I think honestly, I would want to be able to do five full rotations on the ice.”

“That’s…your super power of choice?”

“Well yeah, I mean. I’d be the only skater to do it and I’d get so many sponsorships, I’d win everything. It’d be great!”

“You wouldn’t want the power of suggestion to get like…the judges to score you higher or sponsors to just decide to sponsor you?”

“Yuuri that’s cheating.”

“I wouldn’t consider it cheating if it’s an inherent power.”

“But you don’t skate anymore, so does your opinion really matter?”

“Ouch. True colors are coming out today.”

“Well that wraps up Honesy Hour….let’s move on to our guest…”

\--  
\--

The episode had released several weeks later. Phichit was getting ready to compete in the Grand Prix Final and Yuuri was back at his studio. While their podcast fanbase was fairly large, it wasn’t obnoxious. Their fans were aware of their respective careers, but for the most part, they had a niche following that really didn’t care either way what they did. All that mattered to them was the podcast. 

So obviously, he and Phichit were certainly not expecting anything other than normal reception to their most recent episode. An influx of email responses that would taper off by the end of the week, a couple new followers on the podcast social media accounts, etc etc. 

What they got instead was that and even more. The day after the episode aired, Yuuri woke up to an incessant buzzing coming from his phone. He opened his eyes and blearily grabbed at it, squinting in the morning light. His eyes widened a fraction further as he thumbed through the notifications.

Suddenly his phone buzzed with an incoming call from Phichit. Fumbling, he answered, reaching for his glasses with his other hand. 

Phichit started yelling before he could say hello.

“What. The Fuck.” 

Yuuri yawned. “I take it you’re phone is blowing up, too?”

“Dude. Have you even read any of the notifications? Or been on Twitter? It’s fucking nuts! Who knew you would break the internet like this…”

The corner of Yuuri’s mouth turned up in amusement. “I just woke up? And what do you mean, ‘break the internet’?”

“Okay, maybe not the whole internent. But like, the SKATING internet. Dude, that part about you having a crush on Victor Nikiforov…”

Any semblance of amusement left Yuuri’s face. “Phichit, no.”

“Yuuri, yes.”

There was a beat of silence, and then: “How far has this travelled?” 

Phichit sighed. “Weeeeellllll…”

“Just tell me. I’ll find out eventually.”

“From what I’ve gathered, someone made a cut version of the segment where you talked about your crush and linked it on twitter and also @’d Victor in it. And I guess Victor actually checks his notifications, who knew? And he retweeted it. And the rest is history.”

Yuuri wanted to evaporate. “What did I do to deserve this!?”

“You better get on and like, maybe post something to quell the uproar. People are like getting really intense!”

“Like in a bad way? Am I being harrassed?! Why would I want to get involved with that?!”

Phichit laughed, “No! No no no, not that like that. I mean, people are like taking your crush and RUNNING with it. Honestly, it’s kinda funny, and Victor is also kind of egging them on? I think he’s really having a blast, and it’s just a little weird because you’re like super out of the picture. I don’t know. Maybe it’s weird for me just because I know you.”

That really didn’t help Yuuri’s discomfort with the situation at all. 

“On the plus side, Nick Kroll wasn’t tagged in anything as far as I know, so that’s a plus.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s the small blessings.”

“Phichit how could this happen to me?!”

“Just go on and tweet something! Anything! It’ll be fun! Believe me! Anyway, I gotta go…just…I know this sucks, but it’ll pass. I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, go on. And just so you know I only partially blame you for this…but also I forgive you.”

Yuuri stared at his blank phone for a couple quiet moments after they both said their goodbyes. He opened Twitter, overwhelmed at the thousands of new followers that he had gained overnight and the constant stream of notifications coming in from them.

He found himself in the update box, staring at the neutral ‘What’s happening?’, unable to condense the sudden chaos of his life into a mere 140 characters. Instead, he clicked out of the app and turned his phone off without a second glance, quietly padding out of his room to get ready for the day.

He would deal with this later.

\--

@pinchit

YUURI HAD/HAS A CRUSH ON VICTOR NIKIFOROV. OMG.

@yuuri-catchme

who TF is victor nifivorofov

@nikeytomyheart

honestly tbh who DOESN’T have a crush on victor tho ????

@you-ree-cot-ski

are we all going to collectively ignore the fact that @yuurikatsuki would fuck nick kroll

@2boy4we

LISTEN 2 THIS @v-nikiforov

@v-nikiforov

im so in luv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u made it this far....thank u. also IDK how to do the freaking twitter thing?>??? it looks so cool when other ppl do it but when i do i feel like its just dumb? anyway, i totally love nick kroll.
> 
> also if u hate this, pls keep it to yrself. im fine with my C- writing skills. 
> 
> all right bye


	2. yuri's a fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i picture this chapter as being very similar to the scene in little rascals when the boys + girls are at their respective group sleepovers and there are like a million cut scenes between the two sleepovers and both groups are talking about each other without the other group's knowledge.
> 
> and the end part when they're like "boy BLEGH" and "girls BLEGH", thats like all Yuri. 
> 
> anyway if u havent seen the little rascals pls....lol..............u gotta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no podcast in this episode, but like....yuuri finally @s victor
> 
> also i only updated fast bc the novelty of writing a new fic has not yet worn off. pls dont expect this from me.

“Looking a little prickly today; is something on your mind?”

Yuuri gave a side glance to Leo who was currently manning the reception desk in their quaint studio. He could see him scrolling aimlessly on his phone. 

Did he know? Was he aware of Yuuri’s current turmoil? Leo’s face was a hard study, And it’s not like his crush confession had gone THAT viral; ice skating was a niche sport, and podcast hosts were merely floating voices. He was fairly well known as a choreographer, but even THAT network had its limits. It could be worse; he could’ve been turned into a meme or some—

“So I saw some weird photos of you and this ice skater on my timeline a few minutes ago.”

Yuuri’s bag dropped in a loud thud. 

“WHAT!?”

“Yeah, I mean, it wasn’t weird. That’s the wrong word. But just so out of left field? Did you meet someone during your…hiatus? If you did, congrats. You make a great couple!”

“PHOTO? Show it to me.” Yuuri made grabby hands at Leo’s phone, moving over to join him on the other side of the desk.

“Wait, are you saying you’re not dating this guy?! How are these even—“

And there it was, glistening amongst a sea of More Important Twitter News. Phichit had liked a tweet featuring a photoshopped image of a hypothetical night out featuring a glowed-up Yuuri from some gala he barely recalled and a pristine Victor. 

The twitter user had caption it: ‘SRY BUT I COULDN’T RESIST MAKING THIS EDIT’

The like and retweet count ticked up and up and up the more he stared at it.

“This is fake. But it looks so real. Why does it look real?!”

Leo narrowed his eyes. “Why are people making fake couple photos of you and this guy?”

Yuuri slumped forward onto the desk, burying his face in his arms. “I accidentally cut off a witch during rush hour and she hexed me.”

“Oh my god.”

He lifted his head up, eyeing the ceiling fan. “But really, I casually talked about how Victor Nikiforov made me realize I was gay on the podcast and now it’s blown up in like the skating world or whatever and now I’m just so fucked.”

Even though he couldn’t see Leo, he heard him stifling laughter. He could still hear it in his voice as Leo attempted to sound like a concerned friend. At least he tried to mask the amusement, unlike Phichit. “Have you responded to any of this yet?”

“No. My phone’s been off since this morning.”

“Wow, you should say something. People might interpret your silence negatively.”

“What would I even say, though…UGH I’m so bad at this!”

“Well, what would you say if you met Victor in person? How would you explain this? And then maybe just tweet something like that.”

“I’d probably choke on my own spit and die. I didn’t advertise this, but I think deep down I’ve been saving myself for him.”

Leo knit his eyebrows together, “But you’re a ho.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Leo, not like that. I mean, my heart! I was saving my heart! And I am NOT a ho.”

“You should tweet that.”

He was getting nowhere. Yuuri picked up his sports bag in a huff. “I am moving to a new city so I can surround myself with people who care about my wellbeing,” he muttered, eager to dance away his frustrations.

“Yeah, whatever,” his coworker responded, turning back to his phone.

 **Leo Dela Dance** @leodelaiglesia

Crushgate Scoop: LA’s iciest coldest @yuurikatsuki has been saving himself 4 @v-nikiforov and also he is NOT a ho (news 2 me)

\--  
\--

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!!”

A small blond by the name of Yuri Plisetsky turned to the practically-vibrating-with-excitement man next to him, aka Victor Nikiforov. Yuri’s been fighting off a terribly bad taste in his mouth ever since that STUPID podcast clip blew up. He felt not only hurt, but also betrayed and nearly deleted his entire catalog of back-episodes and specials of We Two Boys.

Yeah he was a fan. WAS a fan. 

“What, did that annoying name stealer finally tweet at you!?”

Victor’s smile fell from his face in anguish as he lamented an “Unfortunately not,” only to return in full force as he shoved his phone into Yuri’s face. “But look what his coworker said!”

The youth mouthed Leo’s tweet to himself, finishing the sentence with a look of utter disgust. “This whole ordeal has made me sick to my stomach.”

“He’s been saving himself for me! ME!”

“If anything someone should be saving him FROM you, you obsessed freak.”

“Do you think he still might have a crush on me?!”

“Seriously, what makes this different from any other fan confessing their love for you? What makes this idiot so special? He wasn’t even on your radar until like…a day ago.”

Yuri was only a little jealous.  
Either a rink light caught Victor’s eye at just the right moment, or it actually twinkled, but either way, it made Yuri want to throw up. Victor chuckled and tossed his head back to get their hair out of his face. “Ah, but that’s where you are wrong.”

“What.”

In the distance, Yuri could hear Yakov ambling over. Apparently he had caught on to their extended break. Victor was none the wiser, staring off into the distance as if he were reminiscing a beautiful memory.

He nudged the older man. “You met him before? When? Where? Tell me before Yakov sets the rink on fire.”

Snapped to his sense,s, Victor made a face. “Met him? Oh no, I’ve never met him. But I follow Phichit on Instagram and he’s shown up in many of his videos and stories….” he sighed, resting his chin on his palm like a lovesick teenager.

If Yuri thought he was disgusted before, he wasn’t sure what he was now. “You are freak.”

“I’m a FAN and I’m in LOVE.”

“Ugh, you don’t even know him,” was all he could respond with as he tugged off his skate guards. He pushed himself out into the rink. What did Victor know about being a fan?  
\--  
\--

\--

 **Yuuri Katsuki** @yuurikatsuki

Sorry for the radio silence, it’s been a crazy day. Hi to all my new followers. Hi @v-nikiforov 

\--  
\--

Yuuri took a swig of water, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel before placing it back on his shoulders. He looked up and squinted at Leo, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Hi new followers, hi Victor Nikiforov,” he laughed in a mock-baby voice. 

“Quit making fun of me. That’s like, the most neutral thing I could think of.”

His coworker rolled his eyes. “Nothing about this situation calls for neutral. Victor’s already screaming about your ‘safe’ tweet. Your stans are already posting analysis, which is impressive considering this didn’t really break away until this morning.”

“Analysis?!”

“Yeah, like I guess your respective fan communities are really small, but also very intense. Here’s a link to one conspiracy theory about how you both have been dating secretly for like years now and you’ve had to keep it secret because I guess, I don’t know something about a straight figure skater is more marketable?!”

Yuuri made a face.

“Right? Anyway, so like in the theory you’re so torn up and stuff and the podcast is the only way you can show your true feelings or something and then that in turn inspired Victor to be like ‘To HELL with my sponsors I’m Gay!’ and yeah.”

“That makes NO sense,” said Yuuri as he placed his glasses back on. He slumped down on the floor, pooped from the day’s practice. He watched in the mirror as Leo joined him on the mat. 

“Right? I don’t even know where to start, it’s just all so wrong.”

“It’s like, decent fanfiction I guess.”

“Yeah, definitely. You should retweet it and say that.”

Yuuri made a face. “That’s totally mean?”

“It’s interaction. Mean or not, people will eat it up,” Leo responded, nudging Yuuri’s leg with his.

“The last thing I want is to throw more gas on this fire. I just want it to die down so I can like, actually keep my phone on for 5 minutes. And before you say anything I can’t turn off my notifications. What if Beyonce DMs me and asks me for choreo?!”

“You secretly love this attention. Especially from Victor,” his fake friend slash ex-coworker said. “You’ve never even expressed a desire to do choreo for Beyonce before today.”

“First of all, I HATE attention. Second of all, just because I haven’t talked about it, doesn’t mean it’s not an aspiration!? I would cut off your leg to create a routine for Beyonce, and that’s even without a guarantee that she would use it!”

“Hold up, you’d cut off MY leg?!”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

\--

\--

“What’s wrong with Victor? Why’s he laying on the ice like that?” growled Yakov.

Yuri turned around, seeing a vaguely Victor-shaped lump making close friends with the ice.

“VICTOR! IF YOU ARE INJURED THIS CLOSE TO THE GRAND PRIX I WILL KILL YOU!” their coach screamed. 

Victor flipped his body around so that he was lying on his back in response, holding his phone up above his face. 

“BOY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”

“Yakov, believe me, you don’t want to get involved. He’s lovesick for a stranger.”

The older skater inelegantly got back up onto his feet and slid his way to his Yuri and Yakov, all but shoving his phone in their faces. “He finally tweeted at me! AND FOLLOWED ME! I think he likes me~”

Yuri squinted. “It literally says, hi Victor. And he probably followed you out of pity. Go die in a hole.” 

Why hasn’t Yuuri followed HIM on Twitter yet?!

“Victor, now is not the time to play silly courting games over the internet,” Yakov scowled.

But Victor walked past the two, unperturbed by their remarks and criticisms, typing wildly on his phone.

\--  
\--

 **Victor Nikiforov** @v-nikiforov  
HI @yuurikatsuki WHO ARE YOUR OTHER CRUSHES?! WHO AM I UP AGAINST?!

 **Phichit** @phichit+chu  
@v-nikiforov if u paid attention u would know @yuurikatsuki has a thing for nick kroll. He is VERY funny. R u funny?1

 **Victor Nick Krollforov** @v-nikiforov  
@phichit+chu I am the funniest person I know. 

**Yuuri Katsuki** @yuurikatsuki  
I never asked to be born and yet here I am. Alive and Suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sure its very obvious but im a really lazy proof reader. k


	3. we two boys grand prix live special pt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a podcast chapter. warning: v v dialogue heavy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIEKS! ok this is dialogue heavy bc its our three stooges podcasting. i hope its not too unreadable.
> 
> also i know zilch about twitch but from my intense (read: 3 seconds of google) research, that seemed to be the most practical way to do a live podcast session???? like but the only difference is they would be like, visible I guess? I honestly have no idea.
> 
> anyway, i also added like names to the twitter handles bc i notice that's like a thing that is done (on that note, pls check the prev chapter as there is a joke in the last section with victor's twitter name and its like...im so proud of it. its probably a bad joke. but if ur interested....)
> 
> anyway it all still feels like it looks funky but im not gonna worry abt it. frankly ya girl has bigger fish 2 fry.

A steady buzzing coaxed Yuuri out of his deep sleep. His head felt heavy as he raised it up a fraction, staring at his phone in confusion. It had to be at least 10am and he didn’t remember setting his alarm this early.

Did he have somewhere to be and he just forgot? 

He reached out to grab his phone only to realize it was Phichit…calling him? He slumped back down onto his bed and closed his eyes as he swiped to answer. 

“Hullo?” he croaked. 

“You need to fly out to Sochi ASAP,” Phichit all but screamed. 

Yuuri’s eyes were still shut. “Mmmkay, why.”

“The specifics don’t matter. I emailed you your tickets.”

“Mmwhen.”

“I—“ there was a pause. “Did you just wake up?”

“S’early…”

“It’s like 1pm, Yuuri. That’s pathetic. I thought your vacation was over?”

If Yuuri’s eyes were open and he were a fraction more coherent, he would have had a more snarky thing to say in response to his friend’s judging tone. Like, the beauty of being your own boss is getting to decide your own schedule. Or, if Phichit hadn’t asked such a stupid question on their last episode, he wouldn’t be spiraling right now and ignoring real life in favor of staying in bed all day! Instead, all he could manage was, “Totally,” and a yawn.

“Whatever. Anyway, your flight’s in like, 4 hours.”

He rubbed his eyes and yawned again as the two hung up. It wasn’t until several blissful minutes later, half-dozing in the beamiest of all sunbeams, that the jist of Phichit’s conversation sunk in.

Fly out.

To Sochi.

Where Victor was.

He shot up in bed, suddenly alert. He could just not go. Nothing was forcing him. He could stay here, where it was fairly normal. He had classes to teach?!

Except for the fact that Phichit had BOUGHT the tickets for Yuuri and he wasn’t just going to waste his money like that. He was fairly certain that flying last minute to Russia was like…very expensive. 

There had to be a good reason for this. Maybe it had nothing to do with Victor?

Okay, fat chance. Of course it was at the very least peripherally related to Victor. 

He opened his email and checked the itinerary. It was for a little less than a week. So like, basically he’d be there for the Grand Prix Final and a couple days after. 

He shot off a quick text to Leo, apologizing for the last minute change of plans, and emailed all of his scheduled classes and workshop attendees for the week. He was in high-demand as an instructor, so he wasn’t too worried about rescheduling being an issue.

His phone pinged. 

_Hey, did Phichit send u tickets to Sochi too?_

Weird, why was Seung Gil texting him? 

_Yeah, why. u going 2?_

_jw. Ya. I think he wants to record a special episode while at the GPF. Not sure why I have to be involved, tho_

_lol he told u more than he told me. Also I was half asleep so idk maybe he did tell me that and I wasn’t listening_

He glanced at the time and sighed. Better start packing.

\--  
\--

\--

**We3Boys** @we2boys

US TWO (technically three) BOYS HAVE A GRAND SURPRISE IN STORE. A SPECIAL GRAND EPISODE IF U WILL

\--  
\--

Seung Gil’s suspicions were right: Phichit wanted to record a Grand Prix Final special. Which…was do-able. After all, they’d done similar things in the past. We Two Boys once had a train special where the episode was recorded, mixed, and edited on a cross country Amtrak train from NYC to LA – just because (it was also sponsored by Amtrak and none of them were ones to turn down a free cross country trip). It was bizarre and Yuuri only got motion sickness twice (Yuuri’s threats to throw out all equipment were left unheeded and both instances of throw up stayed in the final cut.) 

But this…was a little extreme. Phichit wanted to do a –

“THAT’S RIGHT! A LIVE STREAM EPISODE” the man in question proclaimed. Seung Gil’s face was its trademark blank slate and Yuuri had a slight sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“I …don’t know how I feel about that,” the dancer responded. “Actually, I do. I hate that. What would we even do a live episode on??”

Phichit pursed his lips in a tiny, impish smirk. “Well, we have TONS of material. It’s been a week since CrushGate broke the skating fandom—“

“Can we even call it a fandom? And why must we refer to it as CrushGate?”

“—and there’s already so much fanfiction about you and Victor! You even have your own ship name? Victuuri! How fucking great is that?”

“I think I have a fever.”

Their producer knit his eyebrows together. “Are you saying…you’re just going to read fanfiction out loud together? For an hour?”

“I refuse,” said Yuuri. “I refuse to read fanfic about ME and my CRU—no, CHILDHOOD CRUSH. LIVE.”

Phichit shrugged. “We could do like, commentary on the different fan-made conspiracy theories, then? They get wild.”

Seung Gil nodded. “It can be kind of a call back to that time when we had a One Direction fan on the show and you discussed all the different conspiracies involving the band.” He was starting to warm up to the idea of a live special. “We could even have a special guest?”

“No.” If Yuuri was going to put his foot down on anything it would be this. “No guests. And don’t give me that look. I just know this would just snowball into like Victor somehow someway oopsie daisy finding his way onto the show and I am NOT going to let you guys embarrass me like that!”

His co-hosts sighed. He had a point. “Fine.” 

“Also, so you know, my therapist is really concerned about the people I’m choosing to surround myself by and I’m starting to see what she’s referring to.”

Seung Gil rolled his eyes. “You don’t have a therapist.”

“Fine. But if I did, that’s what she would say.”

There was a beat of silence as the three regarded each other in Phichit’s hotel room; the skater was practically quivering with excitement, Yuuri looked reluctant as usual, and Seung Gil was just, you know, neutral.

Yuuri broke the silence first, much to Phichit’s satisfaction. He sighed, so very heavy with defeat. “If we’re gonna do this, when would be the best time?”

\--  
\--

**We3Boys** @we2boys

TUNE IN TOMORROW 6PM MSK (moscow std time) FOR A 2HR LIVE SPECIAL!!! UR FAV BOYZ WILL BE RUMINATING ON CRUSHGATE !!

**We3Boys** @we2boys

join us on twitch at we2boys 

\--  
\--

“So…Hello everyone,” Yuuri waved weakly to the camera, currently propped up on a makeshift tripod. His eyes shifted to the screen and he swallowed thickly as he watched himself watch himself in the small little corner of the screen.

“Hi friends!”

“This is so weird. Why did I agree to do this.”

“If you were just going to stream on Twitch, why am I here?”

“Even though the podcast is titled We Two Boys, it’s actually We Three Boys. You’re just as integral to the show as Yuuri and I, Seung Gil. It’s just so much time has passed that we can’t really rebrand at this point, you know?”

“A truly regrettable decision on my part.”

“You and me both, man.”

Phichit elbowed Yuuri. “Shut up, this is like the ONLY way we ever get to hang out nowadays. We’re so busy we have to like, SCHEDULE each other into our lives now.”

Seung Gil frowned. “I dunno, Phichit and I are definitely busy. But I feel like Yuuri has been on vacation for like an entire year now.”

“How many times do I have to say this?! I’m my own boss! I get to choose my own schedule! Also, just so you know, I had a FULL week of workshops and classes scheduled!”

“And yet here you are. Not teaching those poor students.”

Yuuri’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe this. “WHAT?!”

“He’s not wrong.”

“You both are so unbelievable.”

Phichit beamed. “Anyway, let’s get started! As promised – “

“What did we promise?”

“—Well if you’d let me finish…AS promised, we are going to spend a good chunk of time discussing CrushGate ~fan theories~ Yours truly spent a lot of time going through the best of the bunch and uh, now we are here to confirm or debunk them!”

“There's nothing to confirm? We can just declare a blanket debunk right now and just end this.”

"ANYWAY--"

Phichit turned to Seung Gil, who picked up where he left off. “Even though I am just a producer, I was tasked with finding some visuals to stream during breaks. We will view videos of young Yuuri ice skating. Shout out to Mari for providing the hook-up,” he deadpanned. 

“Sound a little more excited, yeesh!”

“I honestly have no reason to be here.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. “If I have to be here, YOU have to be here.”

“Aaand last but not least, take it away Yuuri!”

He sighed. "Thanks for watching everyone, and we hope you enjoy the show...even though it's all at my expense. I hope you all appreciate this great personal sacrifice I am doing for the sake of entertainment. Also Mari, if you’re watching this: You are Dead to me.”

“Speaking of which: viewers, stick around til the end and we will present you with a surprise sneak into Yuuri’s teenage bedroom, which has been left untouched since moving to the US in 2009.”

“It’s AMAZING.”

Unable to find a word grand enough to describe his mixed bag of feelings, Yuuri settled on astonished. Appalled. Shocked. 

Hurt.

“I hate you both,” he said.

“Anyway, moving on. Let’s get started on these fan theories! Seung Gil, what’s first on the pile?”

“A personal favorite: this one’s about you actually being crossed by Victor at a young age causing you to give up skating and stay a dancer.”

“You act as though I settled to be a dancer. Figure skating is a very straining sport, and it’s really expensive. My career has more longevity than yours Phichit. I’m a professional dancer today, and a potential Dance Mom tomorrow. I have options.”

“I’m so baffled as to how people just took like maybe a 4 minute clip from the podcast and just ran with it.” The Korean scrolled down the post in question, reading through with growing intrigue. 

“YOU’RE baffled!? This is my life now, Seung Gil! This is what that stupid ‘no editing’ pact has created!”

Phichit lightly slapped at Yuuri’s arm to get his attention back to the task at hand. “Okay, yeah, you don’t need to repeat yourself. After this we’ll revisit that particular clause of the pact, but for now we need a Hot Take.”

The man of the hour turned to the camera, his eyes only a little wild with jet lag. “It’s clearly false! -- ”

“—And here’s why --“ Phichit quickly added as Yuuri took a deep breath.

“—I’ve literally never met Victor in the flesh. There’s no discernable time period that our paths could have crossed. I never made it out of the junior ranks because I decided I’d rather dance than commit to figure skating. I never went to any of his competitions because the timing was never right and my family didn’t really have that kind of disposable income—“ he was gesticulating wildly at this point, staring off into the distance as he snarked his way through the theory. 

Phichit raised his eyebrows and bit his lip in Lite Shock as he turned towards the camera, Office-style. 

“—FURTHERMORE, if Victor had anything to say to me at that age that was like potentially negative, I wouldn’t even have processed any of it enough to become salty! I would have been short circuiting at the very fact that he was talking to –- no, LOOKING in my direction! Absolutely ridiculous.”

“And there we have it folks: MYTHBUSTED.”

“But in all honesty, this literally happened like, a week ago. Why are people so invested?”

“I think it’s mostly because Victor’s been stoking the flames. The skating world is close knit and everything is so predictable. People get worked up at the slightest hint of a scandal, including Victor. He's an absolute lush for scandal.”

“Oh, so now my crush – as a 12 year old might I add – is scandalous?”

“It’s definitely a breath of fresh air for all of us.”

“Plus,” Seung Gil added with a shrug. “You’re like an outsider. An exotic intruder to the in-group.”

“An exotic what now?”

“Yeah! What he said – I mean especially people who are primarily just MY fans and are just fans of skating, it’s like a novelty to them. Like, they’re vaguely familiar with you as a person, and Victor’s personal life is SO mysterious…and with the way he's reacted to the whole thing -- the idea of you being someone of importance to this like exclusive world of ours must be intriguing.”

“Like when that florist married Matt Damon.”

“OH, so I'm a florist and Victor is Matt Damon? So now I’ve been reduced to a novelty? Why can't Victor be the florist?”

“Precisely. Anyway, let’s talk abut THIS theory: this person even has links in their little write-up! The writer is alleging that Yuuri and Victor have been together for sometime, in secret, prior to CrushGate, and that CrushGate was Yuuri’s way of breaking that secrecy and declaring their relationship to the world, so to speak.”

“Oh, Leo told me about that. That’s totally untrue--”

“And here’s why!” Phichit stage whispered.

“—first of all, it’s popular knowledge that Victor is gay. Even though he doesn’t necessarily publicize his relationships, he’s definitely not shy about being a member of the LGBT community. I mean, at least from what I recall from my days of like, following him. I don't anymore, obviously." (He considered that a good save, but it was actually not.) "Anyway, so the whole part of Victor and I’s relationship being kept secret in order for him to maintain popularity as a straight skater is completely without a foundation of logic—“

“I’m feeling…overwhelmed,” whispered Seung Gil. He leaned over to Phichit. “He is so passionate.”

“—Secondly, I was talking about a childhood crush. I have no idea how that could have been misconstrued to be a declaration of this relationship I’m supposedly in. Believe me, if I were actually dating Victor Nikiforov, there’s no way it’d be a secret and I wouldn’t ANNOUNCE it on my stupid podcast.”

Phichit was dying. “You do remember we’re live right?”

“It sounds like you just gave a speech defending your thesis for like, a PHD or something. Did you rehearse this in the airplane bathroom?”

“A PHD in Victuuri conspiracy theories.”

Feeling a flush crawl up his face, Yuuri scowled. “I’m only trying to set the record straight.”

“And just a quick side-note. Yuuri may seem passionate in his critique, but that doesn’t mean we don’t LOVE all your theories, no matter how wacky! How lucky are we to have such creative fans?! Please keep them coming because they are giving me life.”

“But less theories about me and my nonexistent love life, more theories about Phichit being a bad friend.”

“I’m a great friend, so that would be impossible.”

\--

\--

“YURI! HE JUST REFERRED TO HIS LOVE LIFE AS NON-EXISTENT! HE IS SINGLE!!!! I REPEAT: SINGLE!!!!”

\--  
\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as previously mentioned pls dont expect this kind of consistent posting from me this is so OOC
> 
> speaking of OOC, i think ive been toeing the line with this. sry! but im already too far gone.
> 
> also everyone has been so kind abt this so far, thx for like being into my weird sense of humor. im hoping somewhere down the line a better writer writes a podcast fic so i can like read it and forget i created this to fill that void in my life
> 
> ok BYEE


	4. Alternate Timelines

“All right let’s do one more conspiracy theory and then we can talk about something else. Yuuri’s looking really sweaty and uncomfortable and I’m nothing if not a great friend.”

Yuuri begged to differ. “You spoil me.”

“Seung Gil: what do ya have for us!”

Seung Gil glanced down at his phone, pulling up his notes as he looked for the next theory on their list. “This one’s kind of…bizarre. Apparently Yuuri bet money on Victor not winning the Grand Prix and when it started to look like he was DEFINITELY going to win –“

“Uh, obviously.” Yuuri cut in.

“—he made the crush confession KNOWING fans would get Victor involved, thereby distracting him from doing his best and causing him to lose. Wow, Yuuri. You’re a fucking asshole.”

“Okay, first of all—“

“There’s so much to unpack with this one,” Phichit interrupted.

“--when have you ever known me to gamble?!”

“Do we ever really know anybody?” Seung Gil asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I don’t gamble. Gambling is stressful. We’ve talked about this.”

“Okay, but what I wanna know is…do we think this would actually cause THE Victor Nikiforov enough distraction that he would choke the final?”

“I mean…I feel like Victor performing at 50% is still gold medal material.”

“Careful Yuuri, your crush is showing.”

“And so obvious. Jeez, tone down the thirst.”

“Didn’t you say this was a childhood crush?”

“It IS! It WAS! I’m only stating an objective fact!” Yuuri protested.

“OH-kay….but anyway, enlighten us as to why THIS conspiracy is false.”

Yuuri could only roll his eyes so much before he injured himself or something. He drew in a deep breath. “Where would I even begin with that one?” 

“I guess anywhere would be nice,” said Seung Gil, earning a snort of approval from Phichit. 

Ignoring the jab, Yuuri pressed on. “Of all the theories that we’ve tackled today, I think that one has to be the most inaccurate and most uncharacteristic of me. I mean, I guess none of yours or Victor’s fans really know me and part of me thinks this one might’ve been mostly satirical because it’s just so outrageous. I’m still a huge skating fan, and I really love Victor’s work. Even if I was a gambler, I’d never put money against him. He has my full support no matter if he’s good or bad. I'm more likely to bet money against my dear former friend Phichit, to be honest. So, that’s that.”

“MYTHBUSTED! And also that's cold.” Phichit yelled, after a beat of silence. 

“For someone who allegedly no longer has a crush on this guy, you really go off.”

Phichit winked at the camera. “Please note the word ALLEGEDLY. And should we say....get off?”

“WHAT?! We're taking a break. Now.” As Yuuri shuffled out of the frame, a pillow could be seen flying on camera, hitting Phichit square in the face. "You're both terrible!"

“You heard the man! Put on the compilation video of Yuuri falling on his ass!”

“SEUNG GIL, NO!”

\--

\--

Several floors up and a couple doors to the left, Victor Nikiforov could be found clutching a hotel pillow to his chest, fawning over Yuri Plisetky’s laptop. He wished he had the foresight to bring his own while packing for the Grand Prix Final, but who would’ve known We Two Boys would hold a last minute live special? He had been set on streaming it from his (way too tiny) phone screen as soon as he found out, but the Gods were truly smiling upon him when he saw his younger rinkmate typing away on his personal computer in the lobby while Yakov signed them all into their respective rooms. “YURI~” he had sing-songed as he sidled up to the teen, plucking an earbud out so that he could hear them.

“WHAT!” he spat.

“May I…borrow your laptop later tonight for a couple hours?”

Yuri made a face. “No, you gross old man! You have a phone and there are TV’s in the hotel rooms. ” He tugged his earbud out of Victor’s hand and placed it back into his ear, mumbling incoherently about what a “sicko” Victor was and etc.

He spluttered, aghast at the implication. "That's not what I--"

"DON'T CARE!" Yuuri yelled, effectively shutting down any protests coming from the older man. Victor backed away slowly to lick his wounds. Guess he'd be watching on his phone after all

It wasn’t until later when he burst into Yuri’s room, looking for a phone charger because he had FORGOTTEN his and his phone was at 2% that he saw Yuri’s laptop propped on the coffee table, Phichit Chulanont introducing the live stream special of We Two Boys. Yuri had never whipped his head around so fast and barely got out the words “HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?!” before Victor barreled in and got comfortable front and center, not bothering to ask because they were practically family, right?

“I needed to borrow a phone charger so that I could watch the livestream but you didn’t tell me you were also going to watch! We could’ve had a viewing party!” he responded, pointedly ignoring Yuri’s question because really, how DID he get in there?!

(He snatched the extra keycard from Yakov’s wallet.)

“I don’t—I’m not—“ Yuri protested. “I accidentally clicked onto this stream, I’m actually—“

“Oh, don’t try to lie. I know you’re a fan. I mean, who wouldn’t be? Yuuri is simply the—“

“PLEASE shut up.”

Victor’s mouth quirked into a lovesick smile. “I just can’t believe he’s in the same hotel as me right now. They’re at Chulanont’s room right? Should I find out the number and say hi?”

“For the sake of Russia’s dignity, no.” 

At that point, the stream had begun in earnest, and the two settled in – one Russian practically vibrating with excitement, and the other seething quietly at the uninvited guest.

Much to Yuri's irritation, Victor began vocalizing his reactions to We Two Boys. “He KNOWS I LIKE MEN!” he gushed at one point. “So intuitive!” as if Victor did not come out (though unplanned) during a live post-skate interview in his first Olympics. 

“He’s SINGLE!” he shouted again, as if Yuri was not also there, watching with him in the same room on his own laptop that he bought with his money. 

“Yuuri is so perfect,” he sighed, staring at the ball of nerves currently yelling at a figure off camera about how ‘if you play that video I’m telling your landlord about your dog, Seung Gil--’

(He played the video anyway, much to Victor’s delight.)

Victor hugged his pillow. “I wish he stayed skating. What if we could’ve met earlier in our lives?”

Yuri glanced up from his phone and quirked an eyebrow. “Tch, and then what? You would’ve been competitors.”

“That doesn’t mean anything!” he responded, utterly aghast. “Chris and I are competitors and we’re friends!”

“Whatever. I bet he’d be a better skater than you anyway.” 

Victor hummed in agreement. “You’re so right. What a loss for the skating world. Maybe if we ever get to meet I can convince him to try out the ice for old times sake.”

“Maybe? You mean you’re actually practicing restraint right now?"

“Okay, you’re right. WHEN we meet because there’s no way I’m letting this opportunity pass me by. Do you think Phichit will bring him to the banquet if I ask him to?!”

Yuri bit his lip and glared at the annoying older skater. Phichit bringing Yuuri to the banquet wouldn’t be a half-bad idea. He’d get to meet the hosts of his favorite podcast with minimal effort. But then again, VICTOR would be there and VICTOR’S currently been swept up in the CrushGate hype. He’s not sure if the interest is genuine or just reactionary to the way it blew up on social media. Whatever it was, it sounded like way too much drama for him.

\--  
\--  
\--

“AND we’re back, folks! Tweet screenshots of your favorite falls! I’m so curious to see which ones made an impact on you viewers out there….much like Yuuri’s ass made an impact on the ice.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes at Phichit. “I swear if I end up becoming a meme because of you…..and can we talk about something else for a change? Like maybe skating? Since we’re at the Final, it seems only appropriate. Right?”

“Well, uh…” Phichit mumbled in consideration. He bounced his head back and forth as if weighing the options. They had about 45 minutes left. “Sure! I don’t see why not. Wait, does Seung Gil follow skating?”

“At the risk of sounding like a bad colleague, I do not.”

“When he says colleague, he means friend. And personally I don’t get the vibe you’re too concerned.”

The tension that Yuuri had been holding in for the last hour visibly left as they began to veer off into more neutral subject matter. “Well, that’s ok, he can still provide input whenever he feels like it. We can, uh you know, carry the conversation just the two of us,” shrugged Yuuri. He almost forgot they were live as he was speaking. It had begun to feel like a typical recording session once they got back from their break. Maybe it was fatigue. Whatever it was, Yuuri was glad because he was going to get physically sick if he had to read another essay on his make-believe, better-than-reality love life with Victor Nikiforov. Some of them hit way too close to home, as in he’d definitely entertained some fantasies here and there on what it’d be like if he and Victor had met in an alternate timeline, and that made him very thankful he wasn’t particularly active on social media regarding his fanboy dreams.

In fact, no one even knew about him being a fanboy until fairly recently, and it was all Phichit’s fault. He was going to have to get him back for that. 

His eyes slid over to the Thai skater, who was waving his arms all around talking about Sochi this and ISU that. He pursed his lips and waited for a momentary lapse in Phichit’s rant to interrupt. 

“I think we should focus on Phichit for this last portion. Let’s analyze his, uh, his form.”

“I’m quitting after this,” muttered Seung Gil.

“Joke’s on you, I’m more than happy to discuss my hot bod!”

“Viewers, if there’s anything you’ve ever been curious about regarding Phichit’s quote unquote hot bod, tweet at us now! We’ll be fielding your questions. Again, ONLY questions about Phichit Chulanont. You’re blocked if you even—“

“Yuuri’s a liar. Don’t worry, we’ll just ignore the question if it’s about anything other than my Godly Form. Now get to asking! Maybe I’ll even do some poses!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh :|


	5. Hector Niforofov

The results of the Grand Prix Final were unsurprising: Victor had won the gold, while Christophe Giacometti and Jean Jacques Leroy had won silver and bronze, respectively. Phichit had just been edged out of bronze, placing fourth, but was happy regardless. After all, he had made it to the final and got to skate with some of the most talented contemporaries with some of his closest friends and a few family members to cheer him on!

He was excited for what was to come as he only planned on improving, but right now: The Banquet. 

Phichit whistled to himself, experimentally ruffling his hair with his fingers. Should he go for a tousled, yet refined bed-head look? Or maybe something more elegant, like combed back with a side part?

“I think you should just go with your normal hair,” answered Yuuri, currently perched on Phichit’s bed, his face glued to his phone.

“You’re right,” he nodded. “No reason to fix what isn’t broke, as they say.”

He turned to Yuuri, fully taking in his attire for the first time since he had entered his room about 25 minutes ago. “Don’t tell me you’re going in that!”

Yuuri glanced down at himself in confusion. He was wearing his usual jeans and a shirt of some kind? A normal outfit?

“The banquet is BLACK TIE, Yuuri. You can’t wear ‘jeans and a shirt of some kind’ ALSO what kind of person says ‘a shirt of some kind’ like who are you!?”

“It’s got three quarter sleeves! What the hell am I supposed to call it?”

“Three quarter sleeve shirt and a shirt of some kind have the same number of syllables. Anyway, I brought an extra suit because I already knew you wouldn’t pack anything nice. It’s on the bed so hurry up and change.” He turned around, fiddling with his tie and muttering to himself “can’t believe that was his BEST outfit..”

That definitely made Yuuri set his phone down. If he wasn’t concerned before, he was now. After all, Phichit had texted him not 30 minutes earlier to come to his room in his nicest clothing – he figured they were going out on a celebratory dinner. He was slightly confused when Seung Gil never showed but, but chalked that up to them meeting up with him later. Or like, Seung Gil just ditching because he was kind of like that, but in an endearing way. 

But now, Phichit’s intentions were beginning to reveal themselves. It sounded a LOT like he was going to be the skater’s +1 at the banquet. “Phichit, please don’t tell me I’m your date to the banquet.”

His for sure former friend turned his head and glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “Then I won’t,” he said before turning back to the mirror. 

Yuuri groaned and fell back onto the bed.  
\--  
\--  
\--  
Having never been to an official ISU sponsored banquet or whatever, Yuuri could only imagine how stuffy it was going to be. As the double doors to the hall shut behind him and Phichit, he saw that he was correct.

Milling about were a bunch of old people, speaking with coaches mostly and some skaters. Majority of the athletes stayed bunched together with their rinkmates with only a few of the more seasoned skaters mingling about. He knew NOBODY in this room aside from Phichit and technically Victor (whose coordinates he had zeroed in on immediately, far left corner, near the fancy gelatin, ruffling the fine blond hair of who appeared to be a Junior skater.) 

((He only made note of his location so he could pointedly avoid him, obviously.))

Phichit unhooked his arm from Yuuri’s, waving to some distant person in the crowd and in an instant zoomed off to greet whoever, leaving Yuuri alone. He had half a mind to leave the banquet altogether, having technically escorted Phichit as his +1, but he knew he’d never hear the end of it if he just left 10 seconds after arriving, so…for now, he’d stay.

And as if touched by the grace of God, a waitstaff happened to pass him by holding a tray of enticing champagne flutes. Yuuri grabbed two, mumbling under his breath that the second one was for a friend. As soon as the waiter was out of range, he downed both glasses, hoping to Take The Edge Off.

He knew how alcohol worked on a basic level, and he knew that the effects weren’t going to be immediate. But did that stop him from seeking out more flutes of champagne? No. He plucked them one by one like a child in a field of dandelions. Just downing glass after glass until 

\--  
\--

“Chrissssssss’that a stripper pole?”

“I don’t know, Yuuri….IS it?”

Taking his question to heart, he circled the pole slowly, dramatically scratching at an invisible beard. “It is,” he nodded. “And now I am going to dance on it.”

Victor and Yuri were standing off to the side. Victor dropped his bacon wrapped scallop as soon as his eyes locked on the sight before him. He nudged his protégé. 

“Yuri, you told me Yuuri was QUIET and a WALLFLOWER—“

Yuri gaped, thoroughly scandalized because this was his IDOL, and dropped his stuffed mushroom. “I didn’t know he was a fucking lush, you FUCK! I’m not some stalker!”

Yuuri lazily swung around the gleaming pole, cheeks red with inebriation. A sad attempt to wink at Victor was made. Yuri choked on his kiddie punch. Victor made heart eyes.

“I am going to marry him,” he staged whispered.

“You are NOT,” Yuri hissed back. 

“I am an adult and can do whatever I want.”

“He doesn’t even like you. And never will because you’re a MORON.”

“At least he follows me on Twitter!” 

“You take that back!”

“NEVER!”

“Hey what’re you two whispering about over here?” Victor jumped as Phichit slid an arm around his shoulder, having apparently snuck up while they were busy with there whisper argument. “You’re missing a great show! Yuuri NEVER pole dances anymore. Or at least, not in public.” 

He snuck a glance back to the middle of the room. Yuuri was absolutely destroying the pole, with some help from Chris. The two put on a great performance. 

\--  
\--

Yuuri’s arms grew tired as he spun and spun around the pole. Of course he did other tricks but he was way too drunk to think about the specifics. All he knew was he needed to get off this ride before he threw up.

He stopped midspin and cocked his head towards the fancy gelatin, where it seemed his pal (ex-pal?) Phichit was mingling with his one true love Victor Nifirofov and a small child. 

“HECTOR!” he yelled. He imagined himself walking towards the group with a gait full of confidence, but in reality he was drunk and stumbling and it took way longer than it should have to walk the distance from the pole to the table. Victor pointed to himself, face painted with confusion because Yuuri just yelled out Hector, but was staring straight at him. At his side he could feel Yuri stifling a laugh.

Yuuri was finally there, in front of him, in the flesh. He pointed down at the blond junior. “I didn’t know you had a kid, Victor” he slurred. 

So he did know his name. 

Any response that he was about to give was cut off rudely by Yuri himself. He shoved Victor out of the way and stood up on his tippy toes, getting into Yuuri’s face as best he could. “Don’t call me a kid! I’m 15!”

Yuuri lightly scooted the junior to the side, not acknowledging the teen whatsoever. He was on a mission. An inebriated mission, but still equally important. 

Sober Yuuri would definitely thank him for this. 

“Your son is cute when his is loud. But I have an important question to ask, Hector,” he began, staring earnestly at the legendary skater before him. Victor’s eyes grew wide, utterly lost in the light twinkling in Yuuri’s glassy brown eyes. Protests from Yuri could be heard in the backgound as he was “NOT HIS SON!”

“It’s Victor,” he breathlessly reminded the beautiful man before him. “And I would do anything for you.” Victor gasped as Yuuri stumbled against his chest, burying his face in his collar.

“Be on my show, Victor,” he mumbled into his skin, sloppily gyrating against him. His hands were loosely wrapped around his back.Victor knew it was because he was well on his way to passing the fuck out, but the contact still gave him shivers. He was on cloud nine. Were the ISU stocking the banquet tables with edibles because he felt VERY high right now. He snapped back to attention after a particularly intense hip thrust. “Be on my podcast.”

He vaguely heard a camera shutter go off (Phichit’s phone, obviously) but he was too lovedrunk to acknowledge literally anything else going on in his vicinity.  
After taking what he deemed to be an appropriate amount of photos to document such a monumental occasion, Phichit peeled his friend off of Victor. He offered his apologies. 

“I have a post-blackout routine for him. It’s best if I take him back upstairs. We’ll be in touch, though!” he smiled. And it wasn’t like he didn’t trust Victor to not take advantage of him in this state, it was actually because he really DID have a drunk-Yuuri protocol. Developed and fine-tuned during their undergrad years, he’s managed to lower the severity of Yuuri’s hangovers by roughly 65%. Seung Gil always questions those statistics, requesting sources and data, but who has the time for that?

After getting Yuuri tucked in and as prepared as he ever will be for his impending hangover, Phichit settled onto the suite’s couch, phone in hand, Twitter app pulled up. 

**We3Boys** @we2boys  
We boys have a great surprise in store for you all #hector

\--  
\--  
\--

“PHICHIT WHO IS HECTOR AND WHY IS HIS PHONE NUMBER WRITTEN ON MY ARM?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kinda know where this is going dont @ me!
> 
> also i expect this 2 be not that long bc i hate dedicated large chunks of time to things and also i hate conflict + conflict resolution. hope no one's in this for the ANGST bc it literally does not and will not exist. i have enough IRL angst i dont need that in my fic (i say as i bookmark literally every fic w/ slow burn/ angst in the tags)
> 
> ok thanks 4 reading + sorry for the typos i hate proof-reading!


	6. planz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short short this so short!   
> sorry sorry im so sorry!  
> forgive forgive pls forgive me!

Several weeks had passed and not a word, tweet, or glance in his general direction (that he knew of) from Yuuri, or Phichit, or the generic we2boys@gmail.com. Victor was devastated, Yuri was beyond irritated and Yakov was considering putting to use the emergency resignation letter he kept at the back of his desk drawer. 

“Do you think maybe they all got into a car accident and hit their heads and now have amnesia?” Victor speculated. 

Yuri spluttered, his venomous glare offset by disbelie. “Are you fucking for real right now?!”

“It’s possible…” he trailed off.

“I think YOU hit your head!!”

Victor sighed, resting his chin in his hand in a forlorn manner, gazing off onto the other side of the ice rink. Yuuri rolled his eyes and took a swig out of his water bottle. “I just…I know he was a little drunk—“

“Try WASTED.”

“—but his request seemed so genuine. And I left my number!” Victor whined.

“I bet he blacked out, the lightweight.”

Victor frowned. “He had like, 16 glasses of champagne if I recall correctly.”

“Whatever. I’m done with your shitty love life. You’re both fools.” Yuri scoffed, pushing himself out onto the ice.

“I may be a FOOL!” yelled Victor over the rinkside, “BUT AT LEAST WE ARE TWITTER MUTUALS!”

He considered it a victory when he saw two aggressive middle fingers shoot up in his direction. 

\--

Back in LA, Yuuri and Phichit were conducting what Phichit referred to as a ‘creative summit.’ In reality, it was just the two of them lounging in Yuuri’s living room, trying to draft out some outlines of future episodes. 

Seung Gil was always invited and always declined. “I’m only a producer, I have no wish to involve myself in your ridiculous content creation rituals,” was his excuse. Everytime.

So, it was just our two boys, brainstorming. 

“Listen, I know I’ve been kind of a butt to you ever since Crushgate occurred, but I really think we should invite Victor on!”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes, his pencil frozen mid-scritch. “Is that some kind of apology?”

Phichit made a face. “You know I’ve already apologized like ten billion times.” He gestured vaguely at the framed and matted limited edition signed Viktor Nikiforov poster that Phichit had recentely acquired for Yuuri as a token of regret for his callous actions. 

(Phichit had apologized in person, and then later than night received an email with no subject line and just a link to the Ebay address. Yuuri was a savage.)

“Hmm, true, but also what makes you think I’d be ok with him being on the show?”

His friend rolled his eyes. “I know you were drunk, but you literally asked him. Like to his face. Also I’m not sure what kind of blinders you have on but the apology gift you REQUESTED from me was a poster of Victor. I’m getting mixed signals. Do you like him or do you like him?”

The paper in Yuuri’s hand had since been scrunched up. “Oh my God, of COURSE I like him! If your life was on the line and the only way to save you was by giving up my crush on Victor I’m sorry Phichit, I love you, but that’s too tall of an order. Which is EXACTLY why he can’t be on the show!”

“I’m sorry, did you just say—“

“If he were on the podcast, I would probably have to get a prescription deoderant just to prevent myself from the inevitable stress sweat--”

“Back up a little, if my LIFE were on the line?”

“--I’d just start babbling and babbling and he’d realized what a weirdo I was and then unfollow me on Twitter--”

“I’m your BEST friend!”

“--which is so dumb because social media is dumb, but I’ve looked up to him for so long and I’m practically in love with him and now he knows who I am and it’s so overwhelming—“

“How would that even work? You couldn’t just lie about not having a crush on him to save my life?!”

“But then again, maybe I can redeem myself from the drunken mess I caused at the banquet—“

“I mean, it’s my LIFE!”

“Ok, you know what? You’re right. He should be invited onto the show. It’s only fair.”

“I’m not only shocked, but also appall—wait what!?” Phichit sat up, his mind rapidly shifting gears. “Wait, he can come on the show?!”

Yuuri wiped his hand (his sweaty hand) over his face. “Yeah, now that I think about it, it’s probably better than just ghosting him. Especially after I drunkenly extended the invite.”

“I mean you made your bed, and all that!”

“We can just get it over with.”

The corners of Phichit’s mouth turned up in a mischevious smirk. “Get it over with…or get it started,” he murmured to himself, pulling up a blank email on his phone. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Now that the current drama had ended, Yuuri was back on his brainstorming.

“Nothing!” Phichit chirped, tapping away to a skater half a world away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is such a short chapter but its been awhile so, here is my apologetic offering. 
> 
> IN MY DEFENse...I got sucked into BNHA and forgot completely about literally every other piece of media that I have ever consumed. I'm only now clawing my way back up to the surface (barely.)
> 
> anyway sorry folkz! I promise i;ll finish this (she says as she stares nervously at her growing stockpile of WIPs)


	7. viktor books a ticket

Viktor woke with a start. He wiped a hand over his face, still groggy and half asleep. His other hand blindly reached over to the nightstand in search of his phone. 

The light illuminated his face in the darkness, highlighting the forming stars in his eyes as he glossed over the email that he had just received from Phichit:

_Hey Viktor,_

_Sorry for the radio silence these past few weeks. It’s been hectic over here. We’d like to formally extend an invitation to be a guest on We Two Boys. Hopefully we can work something out scheduling wise. Phoning in would work too….but I think it would be best if we did this in person._

_Victor nodded aggressively to himself at that._

_Anyway, please let us know at your earliest convencience if you’ll be available._

“I’m more than available,” he muttered to himself, completely disregarding any and all planned training in his mental calendar.

_Also, I’ve attached a calender with Yuuri and I’s availabilities for recording the podcast. I’ve also attached a map and address of where we record (we toggle between his and my place. This week it’ll be mine. Hehe, sorry >:-))_

“Damn you!” Viktor cursed to no one in particular. 

_We hope we can work something out between your busy schedule and ours!_

_Best,  
Phichit  >:-) _

Viktor skimmed the email once, twice, three times before settling back into his luxurious dreamy pillow pile behind him. Very, VERY flustered.

He was going to be on a podcast! With Yuuri!

His Yuuri!!!

\--

“You WHAAAAT!!!???” 

Viktor winced at his coach’s shrill cry. 

“I will only be gone for one, two, three, four, maybe five, maybe six days? A week? Two? Who knows! I need a vacation, Yakov, you work me so hard to the bone~” He held Yakov’s hand, imploring his long-time coach and mentor to understand. 

He could do with some better persuasive skills, but that was an issue for another day.

“How could you say such a thing when you have –-“

Viktor tuned him out by then, not really paying attention to what was on his agenda for the forseeable future. The only thing he cared about was getting to LA, being on the podcast, and staying there forever possibly or maybe he could convince Yuuri to move to Russia? 

He frowned, because maybe that wouldn’t work. He recalled Christophe discussing some weird political thing between the US and Russia. Something about…something? Something about an illusion collusion? He had a hard time understanding, but either way, it seemed Bad. 

But…what if Yuuri was into world politics? What if he posed a question during the podcast and caught Viktor off guard? He grabbed his phone, rapidly typing in “definition of collusion.”

He couldn’t stand to look like a total ignorant buffoon in front of such a worldly and intelligent and talented and beautiful—

“OI WOULD YA SHUT UP ALREADY?!” 

Viktor’s thoughts (spoken out loud) were halted by a water bottle, shot-put by an irritated Yuri. 

“And you call ME insufferable in matters of love,” complained Giorgi, skimming by Viktor’s felled body on the ice. 

“You’re both the fucking WORST, actually,” shrieked Yuri. 

“EVERYONE FOCUUUUUUUUS!!!!” 

“Yakov, how am I to focus when I have a plane to catch in 5 hours?! I haven’t even packed yet! Why am I here?!”

Yuri spluttered. “Wait, HOLD ON – a PLANE?!”

Yakov, equally enraged, echoed Yuri’s question. “You’re leaving TONIGHT?!”

Blasé as always, Viktor waved away the negatie energies currently emanating from the youth and the elder. “Please, you didn’t think I’d wait, did you?”

Giorgi, not wanting to be left out, coughed out a short laugh. “Is it worth the energy to pretend to be surprised?”

“Not the point, you ugly ghoul. Victor can’t just LEAVE! You promised me you’d help choreograph my program!” 

Viktor smiled blankly at Yuri. He had totally fucking forgot. He was going to have to bluff his way out of this one. “Unfortunately,” he began. 

A few long seconds passed. 

“Unfortunately,” he continued, slowly skating backwards towards the doors. “You see, a personal emergency came up and will be unavailable indefinitely.” He hastily unlaced his skates. “I must leave at once.” Viktor shoved whatever was near his things into his duffel bag. “Did I mention it was an emergency?” Was the muffled closing to his retreating speech as the door swung closed.

The cosmos gifted several beats of silence until Mt Yakov and Mt Yuri simultaneously erupted in disbelief, anger, betrayal, pure-seething-boiling rage. 

Giorgi, ever the quiet intellectual, left to go on a bathroom break. Mila would definitely appreciate the gossip.

\--

Hours later and Viktor was in a cab to the airport, his most important belongings in his luggage, Makkachin in tow, and the rest to follow via snail mail. 

Why, one may ask, would anyone bring that much to a brief temporary trip for one podcast recording session? 

Viktor would respond with “Yes,” and wink at you as if he just gave you the winning lottery numbers when in reality his answer makes no sense in the context of the question.

But I digress.

So Viktor is in the cab, texting away. Texting whom? Phichit of course, who is in LA, with Yuuri, relaying in real time that Viktor was on his way.

\--

“He’s WHAT?!” Yuuri spat out his drink, sad because it was an expensive cocktail and what a waste, right? But also, like, WHAT?!

“Yeah, I totally didn’t expect such an instant turnaround inbetween inviting him and uh…like, seeing him, but I guess it’s not totally a disaster? Russia’s pretty far. We have time.”

Yuuri buried his face in his hands. It was totally a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, srry for the wait also sorry its so short lol. i appreciate all the luv tho FYI thank u for reading this dumb as hell podcast fantasy fic. writing isnt like a #1 priority for me and i'm a busy bee so i appreciate u all for bein patient i guess. updates r far and few in between so my apologies but also what can ya do hehehehehe.


End file.
